


Not Lost In You

by Isilanna (Betazoa)



Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Friends to Lovers, M/M, Rarepair Gre'thor, Star Trek Rarepair Swap Round 7
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-06
Updated: 2017-01-06
Packaged: 2018-09-15 03:30:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,566
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9216644
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Betazoa/pseuds/Isilanna
Summary: "A lot of things got left behind on Deep Space Nine when we pulled out...not all of them on purpose."After Starfleet was forced to leave Deep Space Nine during the Dominion War, what seems like a very bad decision separates Nog from his best friend. And in the end, even after years of friendship, they both learn that they can still surprise each other.Written for nyarlathotwink as part of the Trek Rarepair Swap - Round 7.





	

"What the hell is Jake thinking?" Captain Sisko's voice booms across the bridge, the words exploding out of him like a sudden clap of thunder. All the bridge officers are watching him warily, and so is Nog, the lowly cadet manning the ancillary engineering console.  
  
The rest of the Captain's words barely register as the reality washes over Nog: Jake is still back on Deep Space Nine, where the Dominion is moving in. The thought of it makes him sick, chest tight and mouth dry. The Bajorans, an unaligned world and recent signers of a non-aggression pact, will welcome the Dominion without resistance and be relatively safe. It's how Captain Sisko planned it, knowing their enemies would not simply sit idly by while the Federation blocked the only passageway between quadrants. But there was no provision in his plan for a foolish Federation citizen who had apparently opted not to evacuate to safety, no guarantee that he would be unharmed.  
  
The Captain is talking about how Jake is a grown man, capable of making his own choices, and Nog turns back to his station to hide the way he's gritting his teeth to prevent himself from scoffing at that. He's lived with Jake for over a year now, and the supposed "man" can't even replicate healthy meal choices or pick up his dirty underwear off the floor. Jake never thinks things through, never takes the time to evaluate his choices before he makes them.  
  
Nog is furious just thinking about it. Staying behind enemy lines is not a man's decision, but the most childish thing Jake has ever done. Surely he'll be imprisoned at the least, or -- profits forbid -- _executed_ for asking all the wrong questions like he always does. Nog's hands clench into fists on his lap, and he sends a silent imploration to the Divine Treasurer to see Jake through this and force the idiotic hew-mon to keep his head down until they can rescue him, tacking on an acknowledgement of debt for the request.  
  
"We should rendezvous with the Federation task force in forty eight hours," Dax reports from the conn.  
  
"And then what?" Doctor Bashir asks, his tone imbued with skepticism that raises Nog's ire.  
  
"And then we make the Dominion sorry they ever set foot in the Alpha Quadrant," he says, barely keeping his temper in check at the thought of all the people he loves back on the station who stayed because they had to and the one who _didn't_ have to.  
  
Sisko's eyes lock onto his and Nog sees his annoyance, anger, betrayal at Jake's choice are all matched in his commanding officer. "Cadet, you took the words right out of my mouth."

 

* * *

 

Starbase 375 makes Nog distinctly uncomfortable. The Defiant has been stationed out of 375 for months now, but so are dozens of other ships. Consequently, the Starbase is unable to offer them quarters, so they're still living on the Defiant, in quarters so cramped they flee to the Starbase at every opportunity just to stretch their legs.  
  
Nog has been walking the corridors of 375 for hours to give his roommate some privacy -- another consequence of living on top of each other is that some of the Defiant's officers have gotten _friendlier_ with each other. He doesn't mind, since he probably wouldn't have been in his stiflingly small quarters at that moment anyway. The double-occupancy room is hardly larger than a closet, ten paces deep and only just wide enough to comfortably change one's clothes -- one at a time, that is.  
  
Still, 375 doesn't feel like a home to him -- not even a second-hand home like his Moogie's house, which is not his own but a home of his family. Being on 375 is more like visiting a friend of a friend's place; not your own space, not quite comfortable enough to be yourself there. He's walked these corridors for hours and hours over the past few months, but it never quite feels _familiar_.  
  
The whole place is just wrong, that's what it is. Federation starbase design isn't anything like the Cardassian-designed station he'd grown up on, though it was more sneaking through the conduits than using the corridors when it was still Terok Nor. The walls are white here, not stone gray, and the lighting is so much brighter than Deep Space Nine is capable of, even five years after the Cardassians abandoned it. He fears he's starting to lose his instinct for stepping over the ubiquitous thresholds jutting up 10 centimeters from the ground at every section junction or in every doorway.  
  
A number of other things about 375 aren't quite right, but he's not willing to even touch on most of those and trigger the upwelling of fear and anxiety at the thought of them. Because those things he's trying not to think about aren't just _things_ , they're people. The crew of the Defiant has become closer now, even the misfit cadet who has struggled and clawed his way into a place of respect, but they can't fill the holes that had been punched in his heart when the old Cardassian mining station he called home dwindled to nothing more than a sensor blip on the screen.  
  
But they're going back -- and _soon_ , if the rumor he'd heard is true. Considering the fact that he'd traced the source back to a yeoman reporting directly to Admiral Ross, he felt certain of it. It explained the meaningful looks the senior staff didn't realize they were exchanging over the past few days. Cadets might be the last to be informed of anything, but a cadet who was good at observing and _listening_ was capable of knowing more than his commanding officer -- as long as he didn't get  _caught_ eavesdropping.  
  
It'll be a fight, though he's not exactly sure what they'll be up against. Frustratingly, no one seems to be certain of the size of the Dominion fleet standing between them and the station, so they won't know until they're well underway. If there's one thing he's learned about 375, it's that the rumor mill is far less rich than Deep Space Nine's. Some of that may be related to his uncle's cultivation of those grapevines, but the officers around here seem to be more than happy to gossip based only on speculation, as if their best guess is good enough to be passed on like fact. On a purely Starfleet installation like this, he's hardly surprised that reliable sources for sensitive information are more scarce. As the Rule of Acquisition number 93 stated, _latinum loosens lips_ , and this place was about as dry as a Vulcan desert when it came to that most reliable of currencies.  
  
Before he can come up with more reasons why he dislikes 375 (or decide whether his elevated level of irritation is borne out of hunger or perhaps his months-long dry spell), he receives a comm from Captain Sisko, requesting his presence. The Captain's office is on the same level he is currently, so he doesn't have long to brood over what he's being summoned for. Within moments he's activating the chime. It's the first time he's been called before the Captain since they left Deep Space Nine, so it must be significant.  
  
When he hears the Captain answer for him to enter, Nog steps into the office, unaccountably nervous considering he doesn't _think_ he's done anything wrong. He stands at attenton in front of the Captain's desk, where Sisko is reviewing something on a padd. Out of the corner of his eye, he notices that the main display screen is covered in detailed battle plans, centered around the place that has been on all of their minds so much these past few months, confirming what he'd already been sure of. It's heartening to know the Captain is dedicated to retaking the station, even if their impending mission is more than a little terrifying.  
  
"At ease, Cadet," Sisko tells him, a familiar tinge of exasperation in his tone. By now, Nog is used to it, and he remembers Chief O'Brien's words on the subject: _"Most Captains hate formality, Cadet, and Captain Sisko especially. Hell, I don't like it much myself. The trick with him is to toe the line -- give him the respect he's due from your station, but don't overdo it."_  
  
He'd taken the advice to heart and put it into practice lately, and he'd noticed the Captain did seem a lot less strained around him. Nog would never be able to pull of Dax's level of familiar irreverance, but he could sense he was no longer a source of irritation, which went for other senior members of the crew as well. He'd have to remember to thank the Chief for the advice.  
  
Captain Sisko carelessly tosses the padd he'd been reading to the side of his desk, where it skitters to a stop in the midst of a sloppy stack of other padds. "I appreciate your promptness, Cadet."  
  
Nog bites his tongue on the "yes, sir" that he instinctively wants to clip out, settling for a nod instead. The Captain stands and for a moment appears to be reaching for something, before catching himself and drawing his hand back. Nog averts his eyes, pretending not to have seen the abortive moment toward the baseball that wasn't there, but Sisko only laughs.  
  
"I catch myself doing that a lot these days," he says, walking around to the front of his desk, one hand running over the knuckles of the other. He leans in a half-sit against the desk then, expression thoughtful. "A lot of things got left behind on Deep Space Nine when we pulled out...not all of them on purpose."  
  
Swallowing hard, Nog thinks of Jake again. He often thinks of Jake, even when he tries not to. Every time they survive a close call and he could use a bracing clap on the shoulder, every time he thinks of something funny he wants to share with his best friend, every time he sees two people talking and laughing together like they share an empathic connection, he thinks of Jake.  
  
"Jake is alive," Sisko tells him, and all the air leaves his lungs with a rush of relief stronger than any he's felt before. "What's more, I'm told he's doing fine, keeping out of trouble for once in his life."  
  
Though his throat is thick and his mouth is dry, Nog manages to ask, "How do you know?" He wants to believe and he's so willing to believe if the Captain does, but he needs to know.  
  
Captain Sisko reaches across the desk and holds up a ribbon, an absurd thing to show as proof of his son's well-being. "We got this message yesterday from Jake and Kira -- it came from Morn."  
  
And just like that Nog can breathe again and he feels 20 kilos lighter without the weight of uncertainty in his gut. He hadn't realized how much the uncertainty had been eating away at him. Guiltily, he remembers that Jake isn't the only person on the station he has to worry about. "Did they say anything about my father or uncle or Leeta?"  
  
The look on the Captain's face tells him something is wrong and he feels sick at himself for being relieved before getting the whole story. Jake might be safe, but his uncle had sold discounted medicine and rations to the Bajorans during the Occupation despite the danger to himself, and he knew too well that Quark was liable to do something humanitarian again despite his protestations of staunch adherence to Ferengi values.  
  
A hand falls on Nog's shoulder. "Your father is being held by the Dominion. He's been sentenced to execution."  
  
It wasn't what he expected, and he blinks several times while he processes the impossible string of words. When it finally hits him, it turns out to be a lucky thing that lunch was several hours prior because Sisko would undoubtedly not appreciate having replicated slug steak vomited all over his shoes. Nog heaves in several deep breaths to get his roiling stomach under control. He manages to gasp out, "Did they say why?"  
  
Sisko shakes his head. "No, but if they haven't executed him yet, it's likely that they're waiting for something."  
  
"The minefield," Nog whispers, voice weak. "They must have found out he was involved in designing the mines."  
  
With a conceding nod, the Captains says, "And if I know Dukat, he is waiting until they take down the minefield to make a public example of Rom." Captain Sisko straightens up and the hand on Nog's shoulder squeezes lightly. "And _that_ is another reason why we will fight our way there before they have a chance to do that."  
  
Nog is still standing there stunned when the Captain removes his hand and walks over to one of his cabinets. Dimly, he's aware of Sisko opening and closing a drawer. His father is going to be executed unless they can reach the station in time.  
  
"Cadet, I didn't call you here to yank the rug out from beneath your feet," Sisko says, and for a moment Nog is pulled out of his grim reverie by envisioning the odd idiom. "What I've told you isn't public knowledge, and I'm sure the Admiral would rather I not have revealed any of the contents of the smuggled communication to a mere cadet."  
  
Sisko stands before him once more, a hand behind his back. "But as these past few months have proved, you are no mere cadet. When you were first sent back to Deep Space Nine on field assignment, I was skeptical. You weren't exactly the _traditional_ Starfleet Academy student. I thought you would benefit from the full Academy experience, but the rising conflict with the Dominion prevented you and most of your classmates from receiving that.  
  
"I see now how wrong I was then. There are things the Academy can't teach you, and times when traditional education is not the best path. Chief O'Brien tells me you're as gifted an engineer as your father; he said he sometimes struggles to come up with new material to teach you at the rate you pick things up."  
  
Nog flushes deeply at this, the ache over his father's fate temporarily diminished at hearing this praise from the two officers he most looks up to. "Thank you, sir--"  
  
"I'm not done," the Captain says sharply, but without any real rebuke. "After consulting with the Admiral, he agreed that some of the requirements can be waived in exceptional circumstances. Being that you have demonstrated exceptional competency and have acted commendably on a number of occasions, beyond what could be expected of any cadet..."  
  
Captain Sisko pulls a box out from behind his back and flips it open. Nog stares in awe at the single gold pip contained within, hardly daring to believe.  
  
"As of this date, you are hereby commissioned to the status of officer to Starfleet, under the authority of the United Federation of Planets, with a rank of ensign, junior grade. " Sisko holds out the box a little further. "Go on, Ensign, take it."  
  
Nog reaches out with trembling fingers to pick up the small rank piece. He stares down at it in the palm of his hand as if it's made of latinum. "Congratulations, Nog," Sisko tells him solemnly, in a low rumbling voice. Nog looks up at him and a grin splits his face, which is met with one from his commanding officer.  
  
"Thank you, sir," he says, unable to find words to truly express his gratitude. It's probably a good thing, considering he'd only make the Captain uncomfortable.  
  
Sisko briefly nods and returns to his seat behind his desk. "Now, you'll want to report to Requisitions to have your uniform updated so you have a place to pin that. I've already sent the permissions through."  
  
Nog blinks for a moment, not even having considered yet that he'll finally get to wear a real unform. "Yes, sir. I'll take care of that immediately."  
  
The Captain leans back in his chair with a small smile. "Very good. You'll want to be outfitted correctly when we retake Deep Space Nine tomorrow." Nog stands up straighter, heart in his throat. Sisko has clearly assumed he knows about the mission, despite not having been briefed; he understands Nog all too well, by now. "Dismissed."  
  
Nog nods and, with only the barest glances back, exits the Captain's office. In a daze, he heads toward Requisitions, head swirling with the news of Jake and his father and his promotion. He hopes that upon returning to the ship, Russo's _friend_ will be gone because he _really_ needs to lie down for a while.

 

* * *

 

The first person Nog embraces on the station is his father, and he's hugging him so hard he hears the poor man's back crack before letting him go. His father holds him at arm's length and looks him over, taking in his new uniform while Nog explains that he now outranks him. Leeta hovers uncertainly during the reunion, connected to him by just the lightest touch of her hand as if she's not sure the contact is welcome.  
  
But she _is_ welcome and Nog lets go of his father to put his arms around her. Looking up and standing on his toes a bit, he whispers, "Thank you." And when she pulls back with misty eyes to nod at him, he knows she understandshis meaning. Because Prinadora merely stood by when her father schemed to rob her husband of his meager net worth, but Leeta had not been content to stay safe on Bajor during the Dominion occupation and had been there through his incarceration and grim sentence. She was a thousand times the wife Nog's mother had been, and he'd be proud to call her _Moogie_.  
  
His father is starting to tell a story about how _Quark_ of all people broke him out of jail, when Nog freezes at the sound of a familiar voice behind him. Rom notices his distraction and goes quiet, smiling indulgently and waving Nog away, putting his arms around Leeta as Nog drifts away absently.  
  
Captain Sisko is squeezing Jake's arm and murmuring about catching up over dinner, and Nog sees him head in the direction of the security office, frowning. And then Jake turns his head and his face splits into the endless grin that Nog had _missed_ and they're both striding toward each other and--  
  
Jake whoops and sweeps Nog up into the air like he weighs nothing and Nog's feet are half a meter off the ground and he doesn't care because his face hurts from smiling and he's wrapping his entire being around his _best friend_ and they both lean in and--  
  
Their noses press and it's like the whole world stops. The noisy Promenade fades away. All the laughter and crying and exclaiming and rejoicing hushes to a lull of white noise. The joyous and excited faces around them dim to a blur, until it's just their two faces, looking at each other as if under a new light. Nog always thought Jake's eyes were black but this close he can see they're a deep, deep brown like the bark of a _nuqu_ tree, and he's stopped wearing buckets of that godawful cologne he swore women loved and just smells earthy and musky and like _Jake_.  
  
They let go of each other abruptly, and Nog stumbles a little when his feet hit the ground again. He's staring up at Jake, who is staring down at him because _something_ just happened, something entirely new between them. It was no accident; Jake has been around him long enough to understand basic Ferengi gestures, and they'd met in the middle, both reaching out to each other to connect.  
  
Nog glances around them but no one seems to have noticed, to have seen the very significant thing that just occurred between two young men who've always regarded themselves just as friends but are very suddenly reevaluating that label. He licks his lips out of nervous habit and he _swears_ Jake stutters out a breath when he does. It's all too apparent that neither of them knows what to say about this unexpected development, but Nog has been trained to _react_ , so he does. He puts an arm around Jake just like he always does and plasters on the expression of one friend glad to see another. In this moment, he will be Jake's Best Friend Nog, someone who feels like a character now, a mask he's wearing on this stage.  
  
Jake seems to understand because he's clapping his arm around Nog's shoulders in return, and if his smile is as strained as Nog's feels, then no one but the two of them would ever notice the difference. Instinctually, their feet lead them up one of the spiraling starcases that lead to the upper level of the Promenade, to the same place they always go.  
  
Nog stares at their feet, dangling above the dwindling crowd below, trying and failing to think of what to say when he doesn't even understand what he means. He swallows down formless words countless times before he feels a warm hand covering his own where it rests on the ground at his side. His stomach flutters.  
  
"You got a promotion," Jake says. Without turning his head, Nog peeks out of the corner of his eye to see that Jake is staring off into the distance, so he looks away too. Maybe it'll be easier that way.  
  
"Yeah, yesterday," he says. "Your dad said..." He pauses, smiling with embarrassment, trying not to flush. "Your dad said I was exceptional, or something." He can't remember the Captain's exact words right now, not with Jake's fingers sliding between him own.  
  
Jake gives a little laugh. "Well, you are. Or something." His fingers are twitching lightly over the back of Nog's hand. "Honestly, thinking about you gave me the courage to help Kira and Odo and your dad work against the Dominion."  
  
Nog's head whips around sharply at that and Jake meets his stunned gaze. "You formed a resistance?" he asks incredulously. "Right under their noses?"  
  
"Yup," Jake says smugly, with that infuriating grin that Nog hates or loves or something. And he tells Nog about pestering Weyoun for interviews or to transmit his stories, and witnessing Vedek Yassim's desperate act, and wedging himself into Kira's resistance cell despite her protests, and secretly staging disturbances like the bar riot between the Cardassians and the Jem'Hadar, and getting a message out to his father via Morn, and being arrested, and being broken out by Quark and Ziyal.  
  
Nog stares at him as he recounts the tale of the past few months, mouth fallen open in surprise because he'd spent all that time worried about Jake and hoping to find him alive and unharmed. "All this time you were a _terrorist?_ " It comes out as an undiginified squawk but he can't be bothered to care because Jake's cheeks darken a little and he ducks his head endearingly.  
  
"I wouldn't say I was much of a terrorist, to tell you the truth." He cocks his head a little, still staring down into his lap. "Maybe a freedom fighter -- if anyone is writing my biography, I guess they can say that -- but it was really Kira and your dad who came up with the good ideas and took the biggest risks. They're the heroes."  
  
Nog realizes he's gripping Jake's hand too tightly so he loosens it a little. "You're amazing," is all he can say, staring dumbfounded at his best friend, the _freedom fighter_ , who turned a childish decision into something really significant that likely changed the course of the war.  
  
Jake looks up at him, mouth twisted into an expression of disbelief at his words. "I just -- I've never been good at...stuff like that. I'm not a hero; I learned that on Ajilon Prime. But when I realized what Kira was doing, starting up a resistance cell on the station, I thought about you, about what you would have done. You wouldn't have let fear of being caught stop you from doing what you could to thwart the Dominion."  
  
Nog's chest feels like it's full to bursting with affection for this man, who thinks entirely too much of Nog and not enough of himself. If the seriousness of the past months have made Nog into the kind of officer worthy of Captain Sisko's approval, they have also redeemed Jake's courage and imbued his irreverant nature with just the right amount of gravity to balance him out.  
  
Before he realizes what's happening, their faces are meeting again and Nog's lips are insistently pressing against Jake's. The human's eyes are wide, but he doesn't break the kiss and when Nog pulls back, Jake bites his lip in a smile and their gazes stay locked.  
  
Just by the way his posture changes, Nog can tell he's about to make a joke before he does. "I thought you only liked women." He says it too nonchalantly, as if testing the waters between them because there are clearly some things about Nog that he hasn't even told Jake Sisko.  
  
Things like: "I kissed a Cardassian boy once, during the Occupation." At the admission of a secret bottled up for seven years, Nog scratches the back of his neck, though he's not sure why; it's not itchy. It's just a human expression of chagrin he's picked up, like all the odd idioms that litter his vernacular that he doesn't even understand. (Though he _is_ fond of the phrase, "lend me your ears" because it's just so evocative.)  
  
Jake just stares at him, stunned, so he reveals another secret. "Actually...I think he was one of Dukat's sons. No, I'm sure of it, because none of the other soldiers were allowed to bring their families to the station, and Quark let him go in the back room when he insisted, even though he never let anyone but me or my dad or the waiters back there. He must have been more afraid of the consequences of saying no than of having anything stolen."  
  
"Is that where you kissed him?" Jake asks, unable to suppress a laugh. Nog takes in his bright eyes as his best friend drinks in this unexpected new tale; Jake wasn't the only one with stories that could turn someone's perception of him upside down. Of course, Nog already knows all about Jake's youthful experimentation, his occasional interest in other boys.  
  
"Well, we did more than that," Nog says, lobes flushing at both the memory and the fact that he was admitting this to the man he'd _just_ kissed. "At the time I thought I was just desperate for any attention of that kind, but in hindsight..." He shrugs, glancing over to see Jake's peculiar look.  
  
It takes a moment, but Jake finally asks. "You did more than just kissing with him?" His next words are a little breathless and Nog's stomach tightens, "Like what--?"  
  
Nog leans in toward him again and Jake's lips part slightly in anticipation, to his great satisfaction. But Nog doesn't kiss him again; instead, his mouth hovers a few centimeters from Jake's. "Would you like to find out?"  
  
The human's eyelids droop a little, and they share the same anticipatory smile.

**Author's Note:**

> Title is from a line in Sara Teasdale's poem, I Am Not Yours.
> 
> Feel free to check out my blog or connect with me at betazoa.tumblr.com!


End file.
